


No lightning - English version

by brokenlightning



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26107318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenlightning/pseuds/brokenlightning
Summary: «Each child has their own song. A silly but incisive nursery rhyme that you learn as a child and that you never forget.His is "Azula always lies".He knows the danger, the evil disposition of his sister: he knows how good she is in reading desires, perceiving weaknesses, manipulating people, and using them as she pleases as puppets.Yet, also this time he managed to fall in love with her lies. He let himself be deceived by those phrases empty of vigor and full of a certain influence, combined with the omnipresent boredom of surrounding herself with fools. The only obscure in the facts is him, as forever. And she knows what he wants to hear, thus forgetting the centenary song when it is favorable for him and when it is convenient for her. After all, Zuko reflects, this will be the last time.»
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar)
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang is ready to beat the Phoenix King, but all is not going according to his plans.

The wind of early September tickled his face, his arms were cold from the sunset. The last Airbender spat out whatever substance had mixed in his mouth, a mixture of dirt and ash that tasted bitter.

It doesn't have to end like this.

He saw the lightning bolt, he was ready to redirect it, but the image of the baby Phoenix King on a piece of parchment crossed his mind. In this instant, everything could end.  
But the look of dismay interrupted him, tearful eyes bulging, sweat gushing from the fabric, two hearts - one of marble, the other of wax - beating in disorder and in confused conflict. The trembling was a sign of pleading for mercy to a twelve-year-old. I'm twelve, his mind howled. But also the Avatar, a spiritual bridge that had assimilated four styles of bending: Water, Earth, Fire, but first of all Air, its element, its roots, its ideals.

Everyone deserves a thousand more possibilities and a choice. Also the choice to make a mistake, however terribly insidious it is. Once, a hundred years ago, Gyatso told him: "whoever created the world made us free. Even to kill. But who created it was clear: by killing you don’t give choice and this, in turn, it’ll be stolen from you."  
Kyoshi couldn't understand him or row against him. He was competing against his own certainties, those few and unique certainties after his identity, an entire culture, had deprived. He felt denigrated, he and his people felt robbed of his own laws. The repercussions cost, no matter how necessary his duty is. The end doesn’t justify the means, it motivates them.

What he wanted to spare Katara, a deep sense of guilt and what he tried to impose on her, forgiveness. But forgiveness itself is a choice. The waterbender had chosen in her freedom, "I’ll never forgive him". Zuko had chosen in his freedom after facing life on a boat in the lost ocean, "I will help the Avatar because this is my destiny". Toph had chosen to escape her destiny because that was what kept her from being herself. Sokka had chosen to free himself from his prejudices, from the fear of loss. Because the moment you are there, the second after you lock yourself up in an iceberg.  
And the world needs a peacemaker, not an executioner. And he had chosen: he would rather die than eliminate. He was ready, he felt the comet's power flow in his breath. He should have used that same comet as a response to a 100-year reign of terror. Which means fighting evil with evil.

Aang trembled with anger, they exterminated my people. But to this inner debate, he already had the loaded answer: if I kill him there will be no trace of my people. So, what was he looking for? Was he plotting revenge? Was it a grudge? But to whom? In Sozine? Towards Ozai? Zuko? Zuko who chased him for a whole world for the sole purpose of being his prize in front of daddy? Zuko, the same Blue Spirit who saved him from Zhao only to be able to imprison him first? Zuko, who made sacrifices, faced lightning from impossible trajectories. Zuko, who sacrificed himself and sent and then defeated combustion-man? Here, Zuko was exactly the result of a choice.

And whose fault was he that today he had to deprive Ozai of this?

His. For this reason, when the lightning bolt arrived, Aang showed no interest in redirecting it. At least not towards the ex Fire Lord. Aang had a plan. The bending. The dissipation of the bending will be even worse than death because it nullifies the essence of the bender. Or at least that's what Katara felt when Ty Lee blocked her bending. Aang was sure. He wouldn't hesitate.

And he hadn't calculated any implications. The implications are there, they exist and must be counted, ranked by gravity and not alphabetically. But in his Avatar experience, calculating is not important when you own a Sokka in the Gaang, even against a blue flame Azula, Sokka is subtly superior as he plans, kindred with intelligence and no one can outsmart him.

And Aang didn't understand what force he envisioned to take the Bending away. It needed deep breaths and stamina, control, balance, but most of all you have to sacrifice something. A struggle between two incompatible people, of discrepant spirits, one of anger and oppression, the other of freedom and flexibility. Even with all the power in the world, you are still weak. Aang had lost to feelings opposed to his, suddenly his own body was seething with lack of hatred, with envy and envy of fragrant tea, jealousy of a higher degree, and a sense of unhealthy ambition. Hatred was piercing his skin, wounding her, deeper and deeper, contaminating his ego and deep layers of his bending. The dirt was stabbing him. And Weak was the word that rang in the mind. Weak was his heartbeat. Weak were his movements and thoughts. The Power was something he felt in front of him at the moment and agonized him, but he was too tired to get up, too tired to approach and capture it and keep it all to himself.  


Avatar Aang had lost and so did the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!   
> Before you start this uncomfortable little book, I need you to read some caveats:
> 
> A. I don't own Avatar and it's not my creation. All normal so far, right?
> 
> B. I will translate my ff very slowly. For now, I want to take it easy as the Italian version only has ten chapters written but to be reviewed and still more stuff to complete. So why all this rush to translate it? In English things make more sense, haha. Well actually, in Italy almost nobody follows atla and I'm sorry because I would like to have the opportunity to share my writings with everyone. 
> 
> C. If no one had noticed, hihi, this is the Italian version of my ff, always called "no lightning" (because in Italy, you know, English is cool). You can find it, if it suits you more, on wattpad where there are both versions. My name is c-suennil, while on efp (i don't think anyone uses it, but idc) i am brokenlegs_ or whatever.   
> The only platform where it is not there is ff.net, maybe I will publish it there in the future but now I don't really have the head as I have to update in three platforms five times. But who makes you do it? My love for ff.
> 
> Okay guys hope you're enjoying it, see you soon!!


	2. I. She owes him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang is defeated, but no one in the world knows about it. Meanwhile, someone relives a traumatic experience.

Is she holding her breath or unable to breathe?

She has lost a few beats; she is sure of it and then starts again. The fist in the chest revives quickly, at times slow, rambling and rebellious. ‘Cause first of all the heart is rebellious. It doesn’t know how to bow. There is no bending for the heart, not even with the blood she can bend. Either the heart commands or the heart hears no reason, it becomes demeaned.

Reason. Does she have any?

Everyone describes her as a reasonable, careful, and balanced person. She doesn't feel like that. Of course, this happens every time they catch her giving speeches about hope.

Will the end ever come?

A point that follows another point, without brackets possibly and without unpredictable lightning strikes?

She realizes what lightning means. She associates it with pain and hasn't even bothered to think about it. If you get hit, universal rule, you die. But not if you have with you a vial of water from the cave of spirits and a waterbender who knows how to heal, then the result will appear as a long coma, without dreams, and without luck. But lightning, in Katara's misleading experience, is also abuse. Abuse that follows the repercussions, trauma, so perfection that it would lead others to wonder how small they are in their small world of small universes.

Yet, she is said again, she cannot, she can’t understand how fast lightning is. She observed them in their power, but not in their speed. The moment before they’re not there, the next moment as well. Instant. Not even. Invisible, perhaps. White, like death. No, Gray like the moon.

She thinks of Yue. She would like to say to scrutinize her from the top of the orange sunset sky, she would like to be touched by its affectionate rays that cool her and at the same time encourage her not to give up; the truth is that she feels her distant, she doesn’t tickle her face, she doesn’t comfort her, her strength doesn’t protect her and for the first time, she perceives Yue so far away. There are only heat and dry air around her. And the breathing is weak. A labored heartbeat. A restless heartbeat. Her eyes burn. They burn like when you burn green tea leaves and they give off an odor, in this case the smell of worn wood. Her stomach is in turmoil and she would scream to vomit. But she can't do it, because she has nothing in her stomach. She lacks energy and with this thought, she returns to lightning again. Fire, heat, energy, redirections. Bending.

Lightning. Sacrifice. Fire. Power. Moon. Lightning

Creepy the laugh of Azula on the inert body of Zuko, as well as her brother, lying on the floor and in a few moments, dying.

She runs to him. As fast as she succeeds. But more heat rushes on her and for some hair, she is not enveloped by it.

"I'd rather have the family doctor look after little Zuzu if you don't mind."

Creepy is the figure of the psychopathic princess who is firing at her in bursts without a tiny sign of hesitation.

As if she could care.  
Azula is never wrong, her shots will be perpetually effective, she finds herself reflecting. Even at the height of its madness, she is unstoppable, impossible to predict, a hateful blue fire war machine. The mocking tone is hateful, her attacks are ruthless, and lacking in control, the confidence that leaks out of her tone is certainly her strong point and it could probably become her weakness. And as Katara faces a prodigy without conscience, she finds herself watching Zuko in the distance groan in pain.

And try to hurry, really. She tries this by straining her whole brain and squeezing her knuckles, until she focuses, from behind a column, on chains. Then the idea comes, a crazy and stupid idea, but she has to do it, it's the only way, it's the only chance that could work. She owes Zuko, she can't let him die for saving her.

Breathe and exhale, looking for all the warm air she has. Katara puts her hand behind her back well welded to those chains. The bronze-eyed monster screams, despising her with some insulting her peasants, ready to kill. Azula turns the column, stands facing her while Katara pulls out her 6 whips. Quick movements by both. Now there is no escape, they are eye to eye. Nor to realize it that the princess tries to evoke bending with her fingers, bending the energy towards the peasant's nose. But the action fails because both 14-year-olds are stuck in a sheet of ice.

And without breathing, firebending cannot be used. And Azula, against all Katara's expectations, had fallen for it. Trapped.

"There's something wrong with her. I can't explain it, but this time it will be different."

The Meridional exhales, moving smoothly in her element and wrapping the chains around the rough hands of the firebender. The next second has dissolved the water, which now falls and expands into the floor. Tightening and making sure the chains are securely fastened, she steps away from the princess.

Then she breathes, one, two, more times, and without deigning a glance behind her, she runs towards the exiled prince. She would like to slap him for his stupidity, she would really like to throw ice water at him to punish him. She would like to insult him in all languages of the world, even comparing him to Sokka. And instead, she heals him, with the same tears that are running down her face, with the same water as the ice sheet used to capture Azula.

And she is still, sitting and absorbed, the prince's head on her knees, her hands on the chest of a boy who took a risk, threw himself headlong and without hesitation, ignorant of the fact that he is the last heir to become Firelord, ignorant to be sacrificing for anyone, someone small and insignificant, ignorant of the fact that he will never be able to see his uncle again.

Zuko took a lightning bolt for her.

"Thank you, Katara." Finally, she hears a whisper, it's his voice, the same hoarse voice as always and maybe a little shaky. The golden eyes are now half-closed, his lips colorless, his skin paler than usual, while the hair - where she didn't realize she had stroked with her non-healing hand - is dirty with filth. Yet she doesn't care, not when he's alive, not when they're together, not when she finally gets to grips with what she feels for him: gratitude and a strong sense of duty. She owes him.

"I should be the one who thanking you." and a smile, so genuine, so sincere, and a shared semi-hug.

They get up together, they help each other. Katara doesn't feel her feet, Zuko can barely stand.

She owes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, welcome back!  
> First of all, did I intrigue you? I fervently hope so and have not fervently used it at random. Some specifications regarding this chapter that I consider essential: I was undecided whether to make it a second prologue because, in fact, like the prologue, it focuses on the facts of the canon with only one difference trying to further extend the message of this story: to use lightning or not? Kill or save? On the one hand, we have Aang who should have used the lightning against Ozai in order not to be defeated by it, on the other hand, we have Azula who actually used it to get rid of both Zuko and Katara and contrary to her will, she couldn't. Think carefully about the symbolism, you will need it later. For now, I'll alternate angst with fluff, just to balance the moments and not make the mixture too dark to read. Later I wanted to explore Katara's point of view on the subject, just to let you participate and understand her current feelings towards Zuko, which is why it is a chapter and no longer a prologue.  
> See you soon!


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